


Sleepless Nights

by ASmallLizard



Series: Is This What You Call a Family? [2]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Bonding, Draculoids, Fun Ghoul is bby, Fun Ghoul is hyper, Fun Ghoul is lonely, Gen, Insomnia, Jet Star is a single mother, Jet Star is hyper empathetic, Jet Star worries, Kobra Kid has nightmares, Kobra Kid is cute, Nightmares, Party Poison is a good brother, Party Poison is a recovering alcoholic, Party Poison is implied to struggle with depression, Platonic Relationships, References to Depression, Stargazing, Team as Family, They're four idiots who can't sleep, clap - Freeform, this went through many rewrites
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25699705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASmallLizard/pseuds/ASmallLizard
Summary: It's hard to sleep soundly in the Zones.And when you're the Fabulous Killjoys, it's near impossible.But they don't even realize that all four of them share the same problem.
Relationships: Jet Star & Fun Ghoul, Jet Star & Kobra Kid, Kobra Kid & Fun Ghoul, Kobra Kid & Party Poison (Danger Days), Party Poison & Fun Ghoul, Party Poison & Jet Star
Series: Is This What You Call a Family? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861591
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22





	Sleepless Nights

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo, thank you so much for all the hits and kudos on my last oneshot. I think the oneshots I write in this particular strand of canon will all be part of a series. And yes, I got the title of the series from a Sleeping With Sirens song lol.
> 
> Special thanks to my godsister for all your advice and support. 
> 
> Hope y'all like this!

A rush of darkness.

A grip like death on his stomach.

Cold, fast, and pitch black, with flashes of blinding light.

He was a prisoner to his head, to the things he'd seen and to the images his mind created for him. He couldn't breathe, and he couldn't escape. All he could do was let the terror of his mind overtake him.

Until, with a gasp, Kobra woke up.

His mind was swimming, and blotches of purple formed in his vision against the shaded blackness of his bunk. He couldn't hear how heavy he was panting; he couldn't hear anything at all.

He always battled with nightmares, but back in Battery City he would just take sleeping medications and the problem would go away. But he had been free from the city and free from pills for almost a year now, and that had both its upsides and downsides. In the desert, he had seen enough to give his nightmares real fuel, not just images from his own imagination. They hurt more now because they were _real_. The innocents he had watched die, the Dracs whose lives he had taken, they were all real. And that active imagination of his didn't help; sometimes the people he cared about most- Party, Ghoul, Jet- they replaced the victims in his memories. The blood, the screams, they belonged to his family.

The feeling that settled in after the terror was always the hardest part. Letting these horrible images conjure in his mind must mean he was a psychopath or something. There was no way he could tell someone about these dreams, not even his brother. But thankfully, he didn't have to tell Party anything, because every night one of these dreams happened, Party was there for him. No questions asked, he would sit at Kobra's side, pull him close, and stay with him until he could settle back into sleep. Kobra didn't know how Party did it, but he would always find him in the dark and hold him until sunrise if he needed it. He felt guilty for keeping Party up, and even guiltier for what he saw in his head, but he would duck his head and allow the safety of his brother to surround him for a while.

XXXXXXXXXX

Party was really sick of staring at the ceiling.

It was covered in cool spray paint designs of his own creation, but in the darkness they couldn't even be seen. It was just black emptiness, and he had enough of that inside of himself.

This weird weight of sadness that clung to him was easier to ignore during the day, when he was surrounded by his friends, and there were parties and claps and adventures to get into. Most of the day, he usually felt happy. It was when the lights were out, the diner was silent, and there was no one around that the gloomy fog settled in. The nagging doubts that anything he did mattered. There was no way four stupid teenagers could take down a monster like BL/Ind. He couldn't save himself, and more importantly, he couldn't save Kobra. He couldn't save anyone. So what was the point?

These were the questions he asked his ceiling as he lay on his mattress in the middle of the night.

He had no idea what time it was, or how long he had been trapped in mental hell that night. All he knew was that his mind had no plans of letting up and allowing him to sleep tonight. He had to get up. He had to, or else he _wouldn't_ get up. Kobra sometimes woke up scared in the middle of the night, and that was the only reason he had to continue lying there and letting this storm of doom and gloom ravage him. But Kobra looked peaceful, and the rhythm of his breathing was steady. He would probably be fine for just a little bit.

Though the weight dragged him down, he rose from his mattress and treaded to the kitchen. His footsteps were heavy, clumsy thuds, disoriented from lying down for so long and because of the temporary blindness flicking the light on gave him. His vision was spotty, but he didn't need sight to open the refrigerator and find a bottle. He didn't drink much at the diner anymore. but no one was around. And besides, it would just be enough to calm him.

Cracking the bottle open with his teeth, he shuffled for the door and took a seat outside, his back against the front of the diner. There was something about being outside that always made him feel good. Even though the desert was swelteringly hot most of the time, it was still better than being cooped up inside four walls. And at night, when the air was cool instead of scorching, it was actually nice.

He took a swig of beer and inhaled the nighttime desert air, and instantly his mind started to settle. He still felt like a waste of space, but he didn't care as much. By the morning, he'd be shiny and ready to go, his weight forgotten until the following night.

XXXXXXXXXX

Ghoul was never big on sleeping.

It wasn't that he was afraid or anything, he just couldn't do it. He still had energy to spare when nighttime came around. The idea of settling himself down enough to shut off just made him fidgety and restless. Most nights he tossed and turned for Destroya knows how long until he got distracted enough, his energy level lowered just enough, that he could drift off. But there were plenty of nights where that seemed an impossible task.

He was silent he slipped out of his bunk and out the back door. Years of pickpocketing and petty theft had taught him how to move without a sound. Outside in the darkened, forsaken corner behind the diner, was the dumpster he hoisted himself on top of. From there it was an easy climb to the roof.

His legs swinging gently, fifteen feet from the ground, Ghoul looked out at the sleeping desert. The whole world seemed to be asleep except for him. He wished he had someone to talk to. He didn't mind being awake, but it was boring and lonely all by himself. If his friends were awake, would they sit with him? He'd love for any of them to show up right now. Keep the quiet away and give him something to do. But like every night before, they were in bed because they were _normal_ people and liked sleeping. He wouldn't be seeing any of them until the morning.

So he stayed on the roof, alone in the dark and praying for a clap.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jet was tired.

It had been a long day.

He wouldn't be of much help to anybody if he was tired in the morning.

All good reasons to fall asleep, but Jet still couldn't close his eyes.

Every time he tried, he would remember something else- or someone else- he needed to think about. Was Party keeping up with his sobriety? He seemed to be doing better, but Jet couldn't control the things Party did when he wasn't around. How was Ghoul fitting into everything? He got along with everyone- even Party these days- but he still felt the need to follow people around for company and lit up when he received the slightest bit of it. And was Kobra happy? The kid was at that awkward stage in life where he wanted to be treated like an adult, but was still just a scared little kid. Jet knew all too well what that felt like.

He wanted to ask them all how they were doing, but they didn't respond well to direct questions like that. They got threatened and were prone to denying, avoiding, or lashing out when they felt targeted. So Jet couldn't do much but keep a close eye on them, provide support where he could, and worry about them.

They weren't fragile. They weren't infants. They were tough, and Jet knew that. They probably didn't need Jet lying awake night after night, worrying about their wellbeing, but Jet couldn't stop himself. He _wanted_ to sleep, but he couldn't bring himself to shut off his brain, to forget about his crew for a while and drift off.

The noise made him fly to a sitting position. Things were too dangerous out here to dismiss it as nothing or tell himself he was hearing things. And when he heard it again, he sprang to his feet.

Footsteps.

The cocking of a blaster.

Fumbling for his ray gun in the dark, Jet bolted into the dining, screaming his team mates' names. Party and Kobra soon met his call, blasters at the ready. Ghoul wasn't with them, but they had no time to wait for him. The intruders would be shooting down the door any-

A tumult of blasts rose up outside.

Why they were shooting their blasters outside instead of breaking into the diner, Jet had no idea, but he couldn't stop and think about it. They charged out the diner door and into the fray, nearly tripping on a few bodies that had already dropped. In the light of the diner, the corpses' Draculoid masks could just be made out. But the firefight continued, and the three of them nearly got themselves ghosted by a shower of blasts from the roof. All the remaining Dracs had their blasters up, aiming at the invisible shooter on top of the diner, but when they saw the other three Killjoys had appeared, they a handful turned their weapons on them.

The whole desert lit up in the light of ray gun blasts. A flying shadow over the moon caught them all by surprise as a figure suddenly leapt off the roof and into the eye of the storm. Of course it had been Ghoul on top of the roof, but that didn't make his sudden appearance any less surprising. With hardly a word exchanged or any light visible, the four acted as a single unit, and it wasn't long before the sand was littered with the bodies of the enemy.

The first voice to speak up, the first sound after the silence of a dozen bodies breathing their last, was Party's.

"They found us again. How did they find us again?"

"I dunno, but we got 'em," Ghoul said, giving Party a jovial nudge with his arm. "And we'll get 'em next time. Jus' like we always do." He was in an awfully good mood considering the circumstances.

"What were you doing on the roof anyway, Ghoul?" asked Jet.

Ghoul shrugged. "Oh. Well, I couldn't sleep. So I was just hangin' out."

"Well, we'll all be sleeping 'till noon now, probably," said Jet. A half-hearted mutter of agreement from the others met him in response.

"Hey..." Ghoul said as he sheepishly rubbed his nose. "If yer _not_ tired, you can come see what I was lookin' at on the roof. It'll be fun."

Party looked like he was just about to say no when Kobra spoke up for the first time that night. "Okay."

They were like two grinning children as they scrambled up the dumpster and onto the roof. Jet watched them until they disappeared, and that's when he noticed that Party was still watching.

"They'll be fine," Jet said. "Whatever Ghoul is showing him up there, I'm sure it's most likely harmless."

"No..." Party said as he shook his head. "He just came to life. He's _smilin'_."

"Well... maybe this is good for him. A change of scenery, I guess." Party looked troubled, so concerned over his little brother's behavior that Jet understood without any context that it was a far cry from his usual nighttime habits. "He's in good hands. You can go to bed, if you want."

Pause.

"Yeah. I'll do that."

That didn't sound right.

Whether he was happy, commanding, or pissed-off- those were really his only three moods- Party always spoke with passion. Every word spoken was lit on fire, and he could energize himself, his teammates, and a whole damn rebellion across the Zones. These words had no fire. These words were grey and resigned to some kind of doom. This didn't sound like Party.

But before Jet could ask Party if something was wrong, the diner door was already shutting behind him.

"Hey, Jet!" That was Ghoul's voice overhead. "Get up here!"

Party wouldn't want to talk about what was wrong anyway. And Jet would much rather spend time with two of his teammates than lie in bed worrying about the third. So he lifted his head, said, "I'll be right up," and joined him and Kobra on the roof. Kobra was propped back on his hands, and Ghoul was swinging his legs like a child. Both had their eyes on the night sky.

"Lookit," said Ghoul. "Lookit th' stars."

Thousands of silver lights were scattered out for them, like someone had spilt glitter across the sky. The one good thing about living in the desert was that, on a clear night, the stars were incredible. They were like this almost every night, but Jet had stopped looking. He had stopped caring.

"See that, Kobra?" said Ghoul as he pointed at one star, a speck in a sea of infinite light. "There's th' North Star. Y'ever get lost, it'll remind ya where y'are."

Growing up in the desert, locating the North Star was one of the first lessons learned. Jet and Ghoul could practically find it with their eyes closed, but being city-born, Party and Kobra missed out on some important survival strategies.

"Y'can always find th' North Star by findin' Destroya. Look-" Ghoul pointed out a cluster of stars. "See Destroya? See 'is arm? Well, he's pointin' at the North Star right now. See it?"

"Yeah..." The way Kobra said it and the way he nodded his head made it clear he had no idea what Ghoul was talking about, even if he was too nice to say that out loud.

"Here, Kobra, let me show you," said Jet, leaning closer to the kid. Slowly and gently, he showed Kobra how to find the constellation. From there, Kobra followed his finger to where the North Star was situated. When his face lit up, Jet knew he found it.

"Good job, kid!" Jet said with a laugh. "It's like you're a sand pup already!" Because he seemed so interested, Jet went further, showing him how to find the Phoenix Witch, the twin droids, and every constellation he knew. Ghoul was also paying close attention, his one ear cocked to listen and his eyes following everywhere his hand went. Even he didn't know the stars the way Jet did. It had been a long time since Jet had even gone stargazing, and a long time since he had the chance to teach someone he cared for about the constellations. He still remembered all of it.

They took in his words, and soon Ghoul was inventing his own constellations. As he exhibited to Kobra the Power Pup, cigarette, and "Party fallin' on 'is face" constellations, Jet's thoughts turned to their leader. He didn't like the way he had just trudged off after the clap. He would probably be much happier if he saw up close just how wide Kobra was smiling. Maybe there was something Jet could do to help.

He told the two youngest crew mates that he'd be right back, and he slid off the roof to go look for Party. He didn't have to look far, because there he was, lingering by the diner door, a beer bottle in hand.

When he and Jet locked eyes, Party froze. Immediately he bristled and demanded, "What?"

"I didn't say anything," Jet said softly. He had to keep his tone even, his expression neutral. He knew that if Party picked up any hint of reproach or disappointment, he would fight to defend himself. "What're you doing?"

"Didn't feel like sleeping. Got thirsty." He made a show of shaking the bottle in his hand. "If you guys can all take a drink, so can I!"

"Party, nobody's mad at you!" Jet said. He didn't understand what had Party so riled up or why right _now_ he so desperately needed a drink, but he wasn't about to make him feel bad about himself.

But Party wasn't convinced, instead eyeing Jet cynically and making a face. " _You're_ not?"

"I'm not," Jet said firmly. "Sleeping is hard, and if one drink is enough to relax you, so be it."

"I didn't say I _couldn't_ sleep," Party said with a growl.

"You can't sleep. Party, I don't think any of us can. I mean, look at us!" He gestured towards the roof, where Ghoul and Kobra could be heard laughing softly over something. "It's the middle of the night, we just had a clap, and none of us are tired. Sleeping is hard! And maybe... maybe that's okay!"

"You sound like you really know what yer talkin' about," Party said pointedly.

Jet's breath caught in his throat. "What do you mean?"

"I _mean..._ " Party said, "when's the last time you got a full night, Star?"

On a reflex, Jet's eyes dropped to the ground. "I dunno."

"Sleeping is hard, and that's okay, Star," Party said in a sarcastically singsong voice. "What could possibly keep _you_ up?"

Jet sighed, wrestling with his mind over whether to talk about this or not. He was trying to help Party, not spill out his own issues.

"We... we can talk about this, y'know," Party added.

Finally, the words gave way, tumbling out of him. "It's- it's not even a big deal. I just... worry a lot, I guess."

"'Bout what?"

"'Bout you guys." Embarrassment pumped from his brain to his boots as he said it. "About if you're doing okay, and... y'know. Everything."

Party looked taken aback. "Y'mean we matter _that_ much to you, that we keep y'up at night?"

Jet nodded, staring at Party's boots.

"Good Destroya, Jet..."

"I know, I know," Jet groaned. "I just want everyone to be okay!"

"But if we screw ourselves up, that's our own problem," Party said. He wasn't angry or annoyed, he was just stating a fact. "Why does it matter so much to you?"

"Because I want to save a life for once!"

His heart skipped a beat, paralyzing him with horror. He let the truth slip out.

"Whaddya mean?"

He sounded genuinely concerned. Never did he expect Party Poison to be a captive audience to the secret he never wanted to tell. But here he was. Here Jet was.

"I had a big family. Me, my folks, and my little siblings. I had four of them. We even had a dog. We lived in a little shack in Zone Four. It was way too small for all of us, but we were happy." He chuckled at the memories, at his dog and that tiny shack he shared with his family. The late nights stargazing and the laughter they shared and how his little brothers and sister would all curl up against him at night, falling asleep in a messy dog pile and they liked it that way. He chuckled because he had to, or he would start crying.

"One night some Dracs came. Felt like they were gonna bring the walls down when they kicked the door open. Mom and Dad, they jumped up to protect us, and I stood in front of my siblings. The dog was barking the whole time- he didn't know any better, he though he was keeping us safe. They got him first."

It was all playing out in Jet's head, like a movie he swore he'd never watch again but hadn't left him ever since he watched it the first time. His voice was quavering as he said:

"Mom pulled out her gun first. She barely- she barely even had time to cock it before they got her. My dad was screaming, the kids were all crying... they got him next, and then they went in for us. I held my arms open- I wasn't gonna let them get killed. One of the Dracs threw me aside like I was nothing, and..." He shook, and his vision clouded over for a moment. "And they got all of them. Why they left me alive, I still don't understand."

Party didn't speak at first. He wasn't rendered speechless often, but there was nothing he could say. And he knew that.

"Jet," he said at last, a breathless cry. "'M so sorry. How old were you?"

"Twelve."

The word was hardly out of his mouth when Party hugged him.

Party _never_ gave hugs. He might smack you on the back or elbow you in the ribs if he was in a good enough mood to give some form of affection. He knew he would hug Kobra, but he had never actually seen Party hug someone before. And frankly, he was shocked to find that that someone was himself.

"The Witch has yer family," Party muttered as he gripped onto Jet with all his strength. He hugged like a cuddly boa constrictor. "She's takin' good care of 'em. That's a promise."

"Thanks, Party," Jet said as he ruffled his hair, but his mind wasn't present. He was six years in the past, reliving the events that changed his life. If he had known then what he knew now, he would have protected his siblings. They would all still be with him. He would have had people to care for all along, instead of spending years searching for someone he could try again with. He wouldn't be so constantly worried about the wellbeing of others, because he wouldn't be so afraid that he could lose them at any moment if he wasn't careful. But then, he never would have met Party, Ghoul, and Kobra, and they needed him too. It felt horrible and burned a hole through his heart, but Jet had a feeling this was where he was supposed to be right now. He had new little brothers, and it like it or not it was his job to take care of him.

"Whatever's keeping you up," Jet said at last, "it's valid. And you don't have to feel ashamed to tell me anything."

"Thanks," Party said. "Maybe another time. Right now, I think I wanna go see what Kobra's doing."

"Yeah, they're making their own constellations," Jet said with a tired chuckle. He kept his arm around Party as they walked to the dumpster. On the roof, Ghoul and Kobra were in rapid conversation as they both watched the sky.

"I'm back, and I brought a friend," said Jet as he took a seat next to Ghoul.

"Scoot over, assholes." Party sat down next to Kobra, propping his elbow on his shoulder. Kobra grinned with excitement that his brother was here, immediately leaning against him.

"Having fun, kid?"

"Yeah. They showed me how to find the North Star. Look." Echoing Jet's words exactly, Kobra showed him how to find Destroya and lead him to the North Star. Party couldn't help but smile. It was cute when Kobra got excited about things, and if it distracted him from his nightmares, Party would listen to him talk about stars all night long.

"Now you can always find where you are," Kobra said to him.

What nobody mentioned was that they all knew where they were now, but it had nothing to do with finding north. They were all exactly where they needed to be. Not lying in the dark, waiting until morning, but stargazing as a team. As something of a family- the closest thing any of them had had to a family in years, or in their entire lives. They had found their place, and they weren't getting lost again.


End file.
